Always Together
by venomandchampagne
Summary: My Sifki Week 2014 drabbles.
1. Similarities

**These are my contributions to the Sifki Week prompts on tumblr, February 23- March 1, 2014.**

**Sifki Week, Day 1- Childhood**

**In which kid!Loki and kid!Sif are adorable.**

* * *

Loki could hardly remember a time before the fiery blonde girl had joined their group. Sif had forced her way into a game of sword play one day between Thor and his friends Fandral, Volstagg, and the Vanir boy Hogun, or as Loki liked to call them, "The Followers Three," and she had never left. Loki suspected that Sif had become a lifelong member the moment she had managed to knock Thor onto his back and placed the wooden sword against his throat. His brother had been utterly shocked, much to Loki's amusement, but had soon let out a boisterous laugh, reaching for the outstretched hand the warrior girl offered him as the others cheered.

He would never admit it to anyone, especially not Sif, but Loki was glad to have her around. She stood up to the elder prince, never just blindly following him like the others, and the way she could best him in countless games was most amusing. But most of all Loki secretly enjoyed when she would sit out of the boys' games with him. He never asked her to, yet some days he would look up from his books to see her sitting next to him, watching the clouds or twisting grass in her fingers as Thor and his cronies ran and played. He wouldn't dare ask why she would bother to keep him company of her own volition; Loki was too afraid of scaring her off. After all, he could not think of any reason for her to wish to sit silently with him instead of playing with her friends and he did not wish to give her a reason to leave by saying the wrong thing.

So it became commonplace for Loki to find the blonde girl sitting beside him in the grass or on a bench, silently passing the time. Until the day she finally spoke.

"What are you always reading, anyway?"

Loki looked up in surprise, finding a pair of hazel eyes staring at him intently. For one with a silver tongue such as he, Loki was at an unusual loss for words. "What?" he managed to squeak out, his voice cracking frustratingly out of disuse, clearly shocked to hear her speak. It was not as if Sif never spoke to him, she quite often tried to goad him into joining the games, often throwing mild insults in an attempt to trick him into playing, clearly forgetting that it was not easy to trick a trickster. But not once before had she said a word while she sat beside him.

Sif merely grinned, "Your books. You always have your nose in some dusty old tome," she clarified, gesturing to the pile of books in the grass next to Loki. "What is so interesting that you'd rather stare at them all day then play with us?"

The young prince looked at the girl suspiciously, narrowing his eyes as he tried to determine if this was some sort of ruse, some attempt at mocking him, but all Loki saw when he looked into her eyes was curiosity. He sighed before answering, knowing she would surely be uninterested and perhaps even repulsed by his answer, as most Asgardians seemed to be, oddly saddened at the prospect of losing his silent sometimes-companion, but for some reason the lies he usually so easily told would not flow from his tongue this time. "Magic," he told her simply, watching her face warily for the violent reaction he was sure was coming. "They're spell books mostly. Sometimes history books too."

Loki was shocked to see her eyes light up in interest as she craned her neck to look at the book in his lap, scooting closer to him. "Really? Can you do anything fun?" she asked, smiling up at him.

His eyes were wide as he regarded her, having expected any other reaction before this one. "I- I can do a lot of things," he stuttered before his usual self-assurance took over, holding his chin up.

Sif merely rolled her eyes at him, quite used to the prince's bravado. "Prove it!" she insisted, raising her own head high in a mocking gesture. "If you can," she added with a smirk.

Loki crinkled his eyes and pursed his lips, stopping just short of sticking his tongue out at her in annoyance. "I certainly can," he answered as he brought his hands up in front of him and began concentrating. He had never shown anyone his magic before, save his mother, and he hoped he would be able to follow through on his claims.

He took in a deep breath and pushed the magic out, pleased to see a green orb slowly form between his hands. Loki glanced at Sif in smug satisfaction, but his haughty look fell at the look of wonder on her face.

Sif was looking at the ball of magic as if it was the most wondrous thing she had ever seen. She hesitantly reached a hand out to touch it, seemingly enchanted by the glowing sphere. As her fingertips reached it, the orb suddenly dispersed, her touch interrupting the flow of magic. Loki was not yet skilled enough to maintain such a display for long periods of time, and her hand had disrupted his concentration.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," she said softly, looking as guilty as she sounded as she withdrew her hand and folded it along with her other one in her lap.

"It's alright," Loki answered quickly, eager to dispel her sadness for some reason. "I am not that skilled yet, it is not your fault," he assured her, pleased when she gave him a tentative smile.

"Oh but I think you're wonderful," she exclaimed, her eyes widening as she realized what she had just said. "I mean, your magic, it's truly splendid," she said, blushing as she tried to clarify her words.

Loki was confused by the warm feeling that overcame him at her words. He continued to stare at her, not sure what to say. Surely her blurted words meant nothing, Loki knew that of course, but her explanation still meant that she liked his magic, which meant she liked him, in some fashion, and that thought made him exceedingly happy for some reason.

The young prince continued to regard her, trying to comprehend the anomaly that was the young Lady Sif. She possessed such a warrior's spirit, always on the move, refusing to back down from any challenge, yet she was also thoughtful and kind, and now she had even accepted Loki and his magic, where everyone else had at best given him odd looks and steered clear of him. He could not understand why she was so accepting of him.

Though perhaps her reaction to his magic was not so surprising after all, Loki thought. He had seen the way she looked on with longing when Thor had begun his training lessons, leaving Sif and Loki behind with Hogun, who was still considered too young to learn fighting skills, her gaze wistful as she watched. The teachers had laughed when she tried to join in the lesson, telling her girls had no place in war. Ever since she had taken their bouts of play fighting more seriously, swinging her wooden sword more ferociously and with greater purpose, even taking to practicing while Thor was at lessons with Fandral and Volstagg, mimicking the techniques she observed.

Sif understood what it felt like to be mocked for doing something she loved. She was much like him in that way, Loki realized.

"I think you'd made a great warrior, Sif," he said suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. "No matter what the others say," he added, staring intently at her, trying to show her that he was being honest, for once.

She looked at him with wide eyes, surprised by his sudden outburst. Her lips curled into a huge grin and she opened her mouth to say something when Thor yelled to her from across the field, asking her to join him and the others in a game of tag. He knew better by now than to bother trying to get Loki to join them in their games.

Sif turned to the elder prince and waved her assent, standing up to join them. Loki felt a rush of disappointment at the interruption, both sad and jealous that she was leaving him for his brother.

Before she left, however, the young girl looked down at him, giving him a smile. "And I'm sure you will someday make a great sorcerer," she said before turning away and beginning to jog over to the others. "Oh, and you better show me something new tomorrow!" she called over her shoulder, bringing a smile to Loki's face before he quickly turned back to his book, rapidly flipping through the pages, looking for a new spell to work on. For tomorrow.


	2. Challenge Accepted

**Sifki Week, Day 2- First Kiss**

**In which Fandral is a jerk for story purposes and Loki is surprised.**

* * *

"Come now, Sif, do you mean to tell us that you have never been kissed before?" Fandral questioned, his voice teasing.

Thor chuckled loudly along with Volstagg as they looked at the warrior girl intently, Hogun standing off to the side slightly, only a small smirk betraying his normally indecipherable demeanor as he looked on with interest.

Sif wasn't sure how exactly this topic had come up, most likely with Fandral bragging about some tavern girl or another, as usual, but she was less than pleased that the attention had been turned on her and her lack of experience.

"Some of us have more important things to do," she said, careful to keep her voice steady and free of the ire she felt inside. Her companions were no Loki, but they would surely pick up on her uncomfortableness and tease her relentlessly all the same if she wasn't careful. "And from your performance in the training yard today, it is quite clear where your priorities lie, Fandral of the Seven Loses," she smirked, pleased to see the grin drop from his face.

Thor gave a loud laugh at Fandral's expense before he turned back to her. "Surely there is time for fun both on and off the sparring circle, Lady Sif?" he questioned, once again goading her.

"Our Lady may enjoy playing at being a warrior like the men, but perhaps she is still too womanly when it comes to matters of the heart. Or the loins," Fandral suggested, his words and narrowed eyes suggesting he was still quite irritated by her earlier remark. "Surely she would never indulge in any carnal activities just for fun or pleasure; a woman can never keep her heart separate in such matters."

Sif turned on him angrily, moving to draw her sword, before Volstagg stayed her hand. "You know not of which you speak!" she yelled angrily, moving so she was only inches from his face. Although he was a few inches taller, Fandral still found himself stepping back from her intimidating posture. "I can do the same as any man! I will kiss anyone, I am not afraid!" she declared, turning to glare at each of them in turn, pleased to see all but Thor avert their eyes from her heated gaze.

How dare they speak to her in such a way? Had she not proven herself, time and time again, to be the equal of, if not better than, any man amongst them? Sif was certainly not weak nor fool enough to be holding out for true love or some such nonsense. She had just… never seen the point of it. But she could have unattached fun just like any of them.

"I sense a challenge!" Thor declared, his good mood still intact, much to Sif's annoyance. "Prove your words true to us, Lady Sif. Kiss a man of our picking this very moment. Do you accept?"

She could hardly turn down a challenge from the prince, not that she wanted to, of course. "Indeed," she said, head held high, refusing to back down. "As long as they are worthy of my affections, of course. I am not fool enough to kiss some of these unwashed, uncouth trainees," she clarified, knowing better than to leave anything to chance around these four, as she gestured to those still sparring around them. "I would sooner kiss Fandral," she added, wrinkling her nose for effect.

Fandral gave a snort and crossed his arms, muttering something about rather kissing Hogun than her, the man in question shifting away and sending Fandral a sidelong glance at his words.

Volstagg chuckled, "Why of course, my lady, perish the thought," he said amused, earning himself one of Fandral's glares.

The group looked around the yard for a few moments, considering their options as they looked for a suitable candidate until Thor gave a cry of triumph as his eye's landed on his brother, Loki. "I have found the perfect contender for you, Sif. Who would be more worthy than Loki? Surely you consider a prince of Asgard an acceptable subject for a kiss?"

Sif blushed faintly at the suggestion, she certainly hadn't expected that.

"What's the matter, Sif? Afraid?" Fandral mocked her, noticing the flush across her cheeks. "Your sudden redness seems to indicate so."

"I am merely flushed from the exertion of training," she insisted, quickly covering up her reaction. "Something I can see from the lack of sweat on your brow that you know nothing about," Sif smirked, hitting his sore point once more.

"I'm not hearing a 'no,'" Fandral practically growled, his irritation growing with every insult she flung his way.

"I accept," she ground out, turning on her heel and stalking over to the younger prince where he was seated on a bench beneath the shade of a tree along the edge of the training yard.

Loki had not been paying the five warriors-in-training any mind, so focused on his books he barely registered their raised voices, only vaguely noting they must have been arguing again; not exactly an uncommon occurrence. They were always behaving like adolescents, and even though that's what they all were, it still irritated him, especially when it interfered with his studies.

Suddenly, before Loki could even raise his head at the sound of the stomping footsteps quickly approaching him, he found himself being pulled up to standing by the front of his coat, his eyes meeting the determined ones of Sif. Before he could open his mouth to irritatedly question her actions, the young warrior had smashed her lips against his own, catching him completely off-guard. It only lasted a few moments, but Loki was left standing there wide eyed and unblinking for almost a full minute after she pulled away and stiffly walked back over to the group. His mouth had dropped open when she turned away, looking the definition of shocked. He watched dazedly as Sif rejoined the cheering group who were now laughing and clapping her on the back, congratulating her for proving them wrong.

As the five left the yard together, Loki felt like he was looking at Sif, really looking at her, for the first time, noting the curves of her body, the way her hips swayed as she walked, the lines of her neck as she pulled her hair back, the lovely sound of her laughter. He was noticing Sif the girl, the young woman, not Sif the warrior.

He licked his lips as he watched her, remembering how strangely soft hers had felt, not at all like he would have expected, not that he ever thought of such things. Loki had never kissed anyone before either, too busy studying his books to bother with such frivolity like the other boys did, not to mention most Asgardians gave him and his magic a wide berth, including the females. Yet now he found himself thinking only of kissing, of kissing Sif in particular, and it confused him greatly. Loki felt warm as he continued to stare at her retreating form, not fully understanding why it felt like things had changed, but knowing that everything had.

As her friends laughed and joked as they left the training yard, Sif surreptitiously glanced back over her shoulder to look at Loki, who had yet to move, and felt a strange knot form in the pit of her stomach, one she had near felt before when she looked at him. She felt herself blushing again, her thoughts replaying the kiss in her mind, which only caused the redness on her cheeks to spread. Thankfully, the others were too busy regaling each other with tales of their own first conquests to notice.

Sif found herself wondering if perhaps Thor and the others were right after all; she was unable to control her heart as easily as her sword. In fact, she felt as if she were wielding a blade for the first time, full of uncertainty and awkwardness, all because of the dark prince. And her first kiss.


	3. The Heat of Battle

**Sifki Week, Day 3- On the Battlefield**

**In which Loki learns Sif is not amused by his tricks and why that should worry him.**

* * *

The heat was overwhelming; it was all Loki could think of besides the battle raging around him. As he dispatched another fire demon with a well-aimed dagger, the trickster prince idly made plans to make himself scarce the next time a battle on Muspelheim arouse.

A noise behind him caused him to whirl around, his hands glowing with green magic in preparation for an incoming attack. Instead he came face to face with a smirking Sif who playfully batted his hands away with her double-bladed staff.

"A bit on edge are we, my prince?" she asked teasingly, twirling her staff with a flourish before resting one sharp tip on the ground, the area clear of enemies for the moment. "You look positively exhausted," Sif noted, her eyes roaming his figure and her smirk widening as she took in his disheveled form. He looked much the worse for wear, the heat seeming to take a greater toll on the prince than on her.

Loki took in the warrior woman's appearance, noting how her wild, unbound hair seemed to match the wild glint in her eyes. Her silver armor shone in the light of the fires that seemed to perpetually burn all around the realm, a surprisingly small amount of her red and silver armor covered in blood and ash.

"Yes, well, we can't all be the Goddess of War, now can we?" he replied, taking her somewhat relaxed posture as a sign that he could clean himself up a bit. He settled for brushing off some of the accumulated blood and grime with his hands, conserving his magic for the future battles they would surely be engaging in before the day was out, not that you could tell when it was day or night on the world of fire, the sky always a dark red hue. He grimaced as he compared the amount of filth on his leather armor to hers, finding Sif to be relatively clean in comparison.

Sif chuckled as she moved around him to the demon he had felled earlier, pulling out his dagger and tossing it back to him, the slight fumbling of his catch Loki blamed on exhaustion. "I suppose not," she said, looking around them, searching for the next fight, he was sure. "If only you could kill them with your mischief," Sif teased before she suddenly moved back to his side, raising her staff as she noted movement off to their left, her stance losing its carefree quality.

A large snake-like demon appeared from behind the rocky outcropping, its skin black as coal with cracks of glowing red running through it like veins. Loki wasn't sure if the creature was actually made of fire, but he had noted the way the blood of the first one he had killed had burned through his cape, prompting him to remove it early on in the battle. The God of Mischief surged forward, passing Sif and ignoring her cry of protest, dodging the fangs of the creature as he made his way close to its weak underbelly. He had almost made it when the snake lashed its tail around, crashing into him.

Sif had been close behind the foolhardy prince after he had run passed her, headlong into danger. She gracefully dodged the tail, hundreds of years of practice making the move look effortless, letting out a choked cry as the tail hit the prince, and then promptly continued on straight through the now shimmering image of him. Sif whipped her head back as green bolts of magic flew passed her, hitting the exposed belly of the beast, causing liquid fire to leak from its insides, and she noted with both relief and anger that Loki was still safe, right where he had been before the monster appeared. She vowed to wipe that smirk from his face as soon as the demon fell.

Before Loki could finish it off, Sif ran forward and leapt into the air, pushing off of the beast's tail and thrusting her staff blade into its neck as she landed on its back. Loki could see the smoke rising from the soles of her boots as the hot flesh of the snake demon seared the leather, a splatter of its lava-like blood burning a small group of holes in her leather leggings. Sif did not even grimace at the pain as she twisted the blade deeper into the creature until it fell, thrashing to the earth in its death throes.

When the demon ceased to move, Sif raised her eyes to meet his, her stare causing the prince to swallow, his throat suddenly dry; surely just from the heat, of course. She brushed a strand of hair from her face before she pulled her blade from the beast, never dropping her gaze once as she jumped down and stalked back over to him.

"Of all the ridiculous, foolish, impudent things you have done, Loki Odinson-" she began, her voice rising in volume at each word, her stance deadly as she reached him.

"I was just giving you a demonstration of how deadly my mischief could actually be," he interrupted, holding his hands out in a placating gesture, grinning at her in that way that always infuriated her for some unknown reason.

"I'll show you deadly!" she assured him, closing the gap between them, stopping when she was but a hairsbreadth away, her nose practically touching his own.

Loki's breath caught and his heart began to race. He wasn't sure if it was from fear or something… else. The mischievous prince waited with bated breath for Sif to do something, knowing better than to move. She only continued to glare into his eyes, time seeming to come to a halt as he remained still as the stones around them. Loki could swear he saw something flicker in her eyes for a moment, but it was gone before he could identify it, and then all he could focus on was the burning of his leg.

He stumbled backwards, looking down at the rather large hole that was now burned up the side of his pants, his skin red with a slight burn. Loki looked back up at Sif in confusion and saw the warrior smiling at him, holding her staff vertically in front of her, twisting it in her hand so that the blade spun clockwise before her. Loki found his gaze drawn to the glinting blade and realized how oddly clean it seemed to be straight after a battle. He looked to the ground and noticed the other blade was clean as well. Sif raised her eyebrows as her smirk grew, causing him to realize what had happened. She had wiped her blade off on his pants as they had been locked in their staring contest, letting the acid-like blood burn through the leather. On purpose!

Before he could begin on the list of obscenities running through his head, Sif spoke out, "Perhaps next time you will restrict your use of mischief to the enemy, hmm?" the glint in her eyes assuring him that she was quite serious, despite her more lighthearted tone.

At Loki's answering glare she sighed. "You know I am sworn to protect the royal family, Loki. There is no need to make my life more difficult and to try and shave years off of it due to worry, just for a simple trick," Sif said tiredly, her shoulders dropping slightly. "And besides, you play enough jokes on us all when we are not in the midst of battle, do you not? Surely you can refrain for a short while," she added, giving him a small smile to try and lighten the mood once more.

Loki felt guilty at her words. It was never his intention to cause her worry, though he found it oddly pleasing to know that she did. "Forgive me, Sif, I meant no harm. I promise to keep my mischief to a minimum," he assured her, returning her smile.

Sif rolled her eyes. "If only I could believe you, Silvertongue," she said, shaking her head at the way he grinned at the moniker. She opened her mouth to continue their banter when she heard a rumbling from all around them. Loki noticed it as well, turning his head in an effort to pinpoint a source.

From all around them a horde of demons appeared from the rocks, surrounding the two Asgardians. Sif and Loki moved together, standing back to back, preparing to face the onslaught. Loki found it quite reassuring to have Sif at his back, literally.

"Looks like we're in for a fun time," he said wryly, pulling out a pair of daggers.

Sif grinned behind him, relishing in the impending battle, anticipation flowing through her veins. "Try to keep your fun contained this time, my prince," she called, eying the approaching demons eagerly.

"Of course, my lady," Loki answered, and she could almost picture him bowing if they had not been surrounded by foes.

Sif laughed at him, readying her staff.

The two remained back-to-back as the demons attacked, guarding each other and warding off many deadly blows as they fought, magic and steel creating a deadly combination. Sif would never tell Loki, of course, but she found herself glad that she had caught up with the younger prince in her search for her comrades, having been separated during the heat of battle.

As yet another out of the seemingly endless waves of demons fell to her blade, having been distracted by a projection of the prince that had appeared behind it as she could feel the real Loki still pressed against her back, Sif had to admit that his tricks did come in handy; but not to him of course.


	4. Cold

**Sifki Week, Day 4- Sleeping Habits**

**In which Loki learns Sif is a blanket hog and has little tolerance for cold.**

* * *

There are many things Loki knew about Sif. She was a great warrior, the first to join a battle and the last to leave. She was a good teacher, whom he reluctantly had to give most of the credit for his skills with a dagger. She could hold her mead better than Fandral, which was always amusing. She could look like a fierce warrior one moment and the next put any other lady of the court to shame with her beauty and grace. She also had developed a habit of losing track of time pouring over battle histories in the royal library, to the point of having to be dragged away from them for meals, much to the amusement of Loki, who still remembered her teasing him for a similar practice with his spell books. Loki knew all of these things. But never before had he known that Lady Sif hogged the covers.

It was a particularly cold night on Vanaheim when he discovered this new thing about Sif; everyone had placed their bedrolls close to the fire for warmth, forming a circle around the flames. Exhaustion overtook them, the long day spent hunting through the forest catching up with them. Loki found himself between Thor and Sif, with the Warriors Three on either side of them, listening to Volstagg's snores echo through the small clearing they were camped in.

He rolled his eyes as he heard his brother's snores join Volstagg's, the two creating a symphony of deafening wheezes. Loki rolled over, inching his bedroll away from his brother, trying to escape the disruptive noise. Eventually he felt himself drift off despite the discommodious surroundings.

It was still very much dark when Loki woke, feeling significantly colder than he usually did. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced around. The fire was still going, so he could not have been asleep for very long, unless someone else had woken before him to tend to it. Loki looked down and noticed the reason for his chill, and probably the reason he had been awakened: his covers were gone.

He looked first to Thor, wondering if his elder brother was playing some sort of prank, but the Thunderer was oblivious to the world, sprawled out, limbs askew as he continued to snore. Loki idly thought that he was glad he had moved away from his brother earlier, as he was pretty sure Thor's foot was now where Loki's head had been. But if Thor did not steal his blankets, then who?

The young prince was about to get up to investigate his three companions on the other side of the fire when movement at his side caught his attention. Looking down, Loki found Sif, who was currently curling closer to him, wrapped up in more than her fair share of blankets. Yes, there was his dark green covering, wrapped around the female warrior, as if it were her own.

Loki scowled and reached out to pull it back, the chill in the air beginning to seep into his bones. Unfortunately for him, however, Sif had managed to wrap herself completely in his blanket, and Loki could find no end of it in sight. Grumbling to himself, he tried to gently roll her over, then not so gently when that failed to budge her.

He was near yelling when his efforts yielded a soft groan from the sleeping woman, finally rousing her somewhat from her sleep.

"Mmph, what is it?" she murmured, still mostly asleep, face buried in the stolen blankets.

Loki gave a snort, "You have stolen my blanket, Sif, I would like it back."

"No," came the muffled reply, much to Loki's consternation. "Cold, need it…" she mumbled before seeming to fall back asleep.

"Of all the-" Loki muttered to himself, trying to calm down before he woke the whole camp up with his yelling, taking a deep breath. "I am well aware of the temperature, _Sif_, which is why I would also like some covers!" he hissed, waving his arms in annoyance even though no one could see.

The lump in the pile of blankets groaned, indicating she was still somewhat awake. Sif mumbled something incoherent and then raised her arm up, lifting the covers.

Loki looked at her curiously for a moment before he reached out and tried to pull his blanket back, only to have her rip it out of his grasp and murmur an annoyed "no!"

Loki sighed, "Sif, I do not understand, what-"

"Get in you moron!" she whisper-yelled, holding the blankets up again while she glared at him.

The prince hesitated a moment more before he slowly moved under the blankets, waiting for some sort of trick. But Sif was not him, she was not the God of Mischief, so once he was under the covers sufficiently, she dropped them and curled up against him, causing Loki to stiffen against her in surprise.

Sif only chuckled, wiggling until she found a position she was comfortable with, an arm draped across his chest. Loki slowly relaxed, laying his hands down on his chest on top of her own, causing her to hiss at the shock of the cold, slapping his hands away. He grinned and turned his head so he could look at her, head buried against his shoulder. "Why… why?" he tried, unable to complete the sentence, unsure what to say.

Sif understood however, smiling against his arm. "I told you: cold," she muttered, glancing up at him for a brief moment before closing her eyes again. "Now go to sleep before I kick you out," she threatened, causing him to chuckle as he too closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of sharing a bedroll with Sif.


	5. Birth Day

**Sifki Week, Day 5- Gifts**

**In which Loki is moping and Sif cheers him up.**

* * *

The feast in celebration of the anniversary of Loki's birth was impressive, as all palace feasts were. There was much food and drink, dancing and merriment, but the younger prince did not seem to be partaking. Loki sat sullenly at the table, idly swirling the mead in his chalice, watching the guests enjoy themselves.

Sif watched him from across the table, curious as to why he was not celebrating like everyone else. Indeed, Thor and Volstagg had been 'celebrating' for hours now, presently chanting another drinking song, as if they needed the encouragement. Fandral and Hogun were engaged in some heated discussion, which only ended when Fandral was distracted by a group of passing women. Sif herself had been relishing in the festivities earlier, enjoying the delicacies they had been served, though not nearly so much as Volstagg, and even allowing Thor and Fandral to drag her out for a few dances. But now her thoughts were solely on the recipient of the celebration, who seemed to be moping.

As she thought back on the evening, Sif could not recall Loki participating in any of the fun her and her companions had enjoyed. In fact, she was now sure he had not once left his seat at the table. Sif frowned as she continued to watch him, idly wondering if perhaps the prince before her was merely one of his illusions, when Loki silently rose from the table and headed towards the balcony. Not one to let things lie, Sif followed him.

Loki did not turn from the railing where he stood when she exited the palace and walked out onto the balcony, though she knew he was aware of her presence.

"Loki?" she called softly, question clear in her voice. "Is something the matter?"

She heard him sigh deeply before turning around, a smile that she had come to know as false on his face.

"What could possibly be the matter on a night of celebration such as this?" he asked, the sarcasm in his tone barely detectable as he gestured to their surroundings.

Sif frowned, shaking her head. "Come now, Loki, there is no reason to lie to me. Tell me what is wrong," she said sincerely, stepping closer.

He sighed once more, shoulders drooping as he dropped the fascade. "It is no matter," he said, waving it off. "Truly, do not worry yourself," he insisted when he saw the disbelieving look on her face. "Let us speak of happier things. Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Lady Sif?"

She frowned at the swift change in topic, not fooled for a second by Loki's tactics to throw her off. "Mmm, well I was until I noticed you sulking," she said as she crossed her arms over her chest, looking pointedly at him.

Loki shot her a glare, displeased she had not just let it drop. When the warrior did not back down, merely raising an eyebrow at him, he flung his hands down to his sides in irritated resignation. "Fine!" he said exasperatedly. "I overheard Mother discussing who would take over the throne with Father today," he admitted, not meeting her eyes. "And of course their choice was perfect Thor. Honestly, are you sure you are not the Goddess of Prying? I think you truly missed your calling, Sif," he added, scowling as he mimicked her stance, arms crossed and back stiff.

Sif let her arms drop as she looked at the younger prince sympathetically, ignoring his jibes; he was clearly only trying to rile her up so she would get mad and storm off, leaving him alone. "I'm sorry, Loki," she said honestly, truly meaning it. She was not exactly surprised, she had always assumed Thor would be named Odin's successor, but for Loki to find out in this way must have been devastating for him.

Sif was not blind to the princes' rivalry, sometimes feeling like she was caught up in the middle of it. Loki always seemed like he felt like he had something to prove; to Thor, to his father, to Asgard, but mainly to himself. And gaining the throne would have been the best way to demonstrate his worthiness. And to have all hope of attaining that ripped away…

"I don't need your pity," he bit out, glaring at her again.

She could tell he was closing himself off again, she was quite familiar with the signs after all these hundreds of years. And she knew she couldn't let that happen, especially not today of all days.

"Well, it is a good thing you do not have it then," she said, raising her chin as she spoke, showing him she was not going to back down. "You have my sympathy, and my compassion for having found out in the way that you did," she told him, looking into his eyes, willing him to see that she was being sincere.

After a moment of continued glaring, Loki sighed and closed his eyes, accepting her words. "Thank you," he mumbled, shocking her.

She chose to play it off, however, hoping to lighten the mood. "The great Prince Loki, thanking me? Is it Ragnarok already?" she gasped, laughing when he scrunched his face in annoyance.

"Yes, hilarious," he groused, although Sif noticed the corners of his mouth curling slightly.

"Come now, it is a happy day! Let us rejoin the feast," she tried, holding out her hand, giving him a reassuring smile.

Loki stared at her outstretched hand for a moment before looking back up at her. "I don't know if I feel up to it right now," he admitted, frowning slightly.

Sif frowned as well, dropping her hand sadly. Suddenly, she had a thought. "I think I have an idea as to how to cheer you up," she said, her voice excited as she reached into a pocket in her cloak, pulling out a bundle wrapped in green cloth.

The prince had looked up at her eager tone and watched curiously as she handed him the object.

"It is your birth day gift," she clarified, trying to contain the smile that threatened to spread across her face. "I know it is tradition to wait until later, but I think you could use some happiness right now. Open it!" she insisted when he just stood there looking at it awkwardly.

"Sif, you didn't have to-"

The warrior snorted. As if she wouldn't give a gift to her friend on the anniversary of his birth, let alone to her prince. "Just open it before I take it back," she threatened, pointing a finger at him sternly.

Loki rolled his eyes at her threat before he unwrapped the cloth wrapping. Inside the soft green fabric he found two identical silver daggers. Each dagger had a curved blade attached to the silver hilt, where two smaller blades extended back, giving the dagger three blades in total. It was a simple, yet elegant design; one he was quite familiar with, actually, seeing as how these were _his_ daggers!

Loki looked up in puzzlement at the grinning face of Sif. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked, quite confused.

"It's a gift," she answered simply, still smiling.

"But these daggers were already mine," he insisted, brow furrowed as he continued to stare at her like she had gone mad. "You cannot gift me my own property, Sif."

"Ah, but they became mine once I stole them," she replied, giving him a wink.

"You-" Loki began, but just shook his head, knowing it was futile to argue.

True, Sif had stolen these daggers from him, many times in fact. It had become like a game between them, seeing who could hold onto them the longest. Sif had been winning, keeping them from him for almost an entire year this last round. But here she was, giving them back to him, basically admitting defeat, something the Goddess of War never did. It was truly peculiar.

"It is my gift to you," Sif said, as if she could read his mind. "The one and only time I will ever yield, I give to you, Loki," she said, her smile gone, face serious now.

To say he was stunned would be an understatement. The gravity of her words hit him hard. Loki understood what this meant for her, and it was perhaps the most precious gift he had ever been given. "Thank you, Sif," he managed to stay, still shocked.

She gave him a smile, "Now if you don't come back with me to your own party, my prince, I will have to steal them back again."

Loki could not tell if she was joking, but he guessed she probably was not, so he placed his daggers in his belt and smiled at her as he gestured back towards the festivities, allowing her to precede him. Perhaps this would not turn out to be one of his worst birth days after all.


	6. War Amongst the Stars

**Sifki Week, ****Day 6- AU**

**For Dani (arrowthroughmyolicityheart), because this is basically all her fault ;)**

**AU/Crossover that you should recognize pretty quickly.**

**In which Loki finds his rescuer to be most unexpected.**

* * *

Loki was awakened by the sound of the cell door hissing open, heavy boots stomping into his cell. He slowly raised himself so he was propped up by his elbow, still lounging on the hard surface that passed as a bed. He quirked an eyebrow at the burly armored man before him who tilted his head at Loki, seeming utterly confused.

"Aren't you a little tall for a Stormtrooper?" Loki drawled, looking the guard up and down, noting how the white armor seemed too small for his frame.

"Hmm?" the strange man questioned dumbly, causing Loki to roll his eyes. _Honestly, where do they find these people? _he wondered.

"Oh, the uniform!" the Stormtrooper realized, unfastenting his helm and pulling it off, revealing long blonde hair and a scruffy beard. "I'm Thor Odinson, I'm here to rescue you," he said cheerily, wide smile on his face.

Loki looked at the man, Thor, dubiously. "You're who?"

"I'm here to rescue you, I've got Hogun and your message, and I'm here with Lady Frig!" Thor said quickly, glad when Loki stood in surprise.

"Lady Frig? Where is she?" he demanded, passing Thor and heading to the open cell door.

"Come on," Thor said unnecessarily as he followed the prince out of the cell.

As soon as they made it out into the hall they were met with the sound of blaster fire. Loki and Thor pressed themselves up against the wall behind a bulkhead as a dark haired woman and a large, rotund man rushed over and slid in next to them. They also wore apparently stolen Stormtrooper uniforms.

"Can't get out that way," the woman announced, blaster held in front of her at the ready.

"Looks like you managed to cut off our only escape route," Loki said irritably.

The woman snapped her head around to face him with narrowed eyes, her hair whipping around her head from its high ponytail, "Maybe you'd like to get back in your cell,_ Your Highness_," she said, her voice sickeningly sweet, the honorific dripping with disdain.

Loki growled, how dare this woman, didn't she know who he was? But before he could chew her out they were being fired upon and were forced to back down the hallway.

"Fandral, Fandral! Are there any other ways out of the cell bay? We've been cut off!" Thor yelled desperately into his communicator, pushing Loki against the wall behind him, the woman and her companion continuing to return fire from the other side of the narrow hall.

Loki watched, helpless without a gun, as enemy fire continued to pin them down.

"What was that, I didn't copy?" Thor asked again, talking to this Fandral, Loki guessed.

After a moment of silence, besides the blaster fire, Thor let out an annoyed breath at whatever Fandral had told him. "There isn't any other way out," he shouted to them, clearly displeased with this turn of events.

The blaster fire continued to pin them down, everyone in their little rescue party unsure of what to do next. The stout man who stood next to the woman let out a growl of annoyance as he kept firing.

"I can't hold them off forever!" the woman yelled, taking out an enemy Stormtrooper who left himself exposed. "Now what?"

"This is some rescue," Loki said sarcastically, ignoring the glare she sent him. "Tell me, when you came in here, didn't you have a plan for getting out?" he asked smoothly, unable to keep the smirk off his face.

The woman spared him a glance between firing. "He's the brains, sweetheart," she shouted, gesturing at Thor before turning back and continuing to shoot.

"I didn't…" the tall blonde sputtered, trying unsuccessfully to defend himself.

Loki rolled his eyes and grabbed the blaster from Thor, shooting a hole in a nearby vent, one just behind where the woman was standing.

"What the hell are you doing?!" She cried, dodging forward, barely avoiding a blaster burn to her leg.

"Somebody has to save our skins!" Loki yelled, darting into the middle of the hall and laying down cover fire. "This vent clearly leads somewhere that is not under fire. Into the ducts, warrior woman," he said smirking as he reached her, tossing the blaster back to Thor.

The woman rolled her eyes before she turned back, shooting once again.

Thor turned and shot down the hall as Loki crawled into the vents.

"Well? Aren't you coming?" the prince called, briefly sticking his head back out long enough to chastise them before he disappeared once more.

The woman turned to her companion with a raised brow. "You heard him, get going," she ordered, before turning to fire another shot down the hall, winging a guard.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Sif," the man tried, scratching the back of his neck. "It smells something awful-"

"Get in there you bottomless pit! I don't care what you smell, just hurry along and don't worry about it!" the woman, Sif, urged him, flattening against the wall as the barrage of laser-fire increased.

The large man grumbled but ducked down and entered the duct, barely managing the tight fit.

"Wonderful man," Sif called sarcastically to Thor, referring to the prince. "Either I'm going to kill him or I'm beginning to like him," she smirked, aiming for an unlucky trooper.

Thor gave her a confused look before he fired as well, his aim significantly worse than hers.

"Get in there!" she yelled, moving out slightly to cover him, firing faster in an arc as Thor ran across the tiny hall and climbed into the vent. Sif shot a few more times, giving a satisfied cry when she hit someone, then dove into the vent after the others.

She crawled ahead before she reached a corner, idly wondering where the rest of them were when suddenly the bottom of the duct gave way and she found herself falling. Fortunately, her landing was soft. Unfortunately, it was because she had landed on a pile of garbage. In the trash compactor.

"Hatch is stuck," her companion called out grimly, his significant strength not enough to make the handle budge.

"Just great," Sif complained as she pulled who-knows-what off her armor. "The garbage chute was such a wonderful idea," she said sarcastically, glaring at Loki. "What an incredible smell you've discovered!"

The prince only glared back, delicately picking the refuse from his clothing.

"Let's get out of here," she grumbled, turning towards the hatch and raising her weapon. "Move back, Volstagg," she called to the large man still trying to open the door.

Volstagg quickly backed away, knowing better than to question Sif when she used that tone.

"No, wait!" Thor cried out, raising a hand to stop her, but it was too late.

Sif fired at the door, the laser blast ricocheting around the compactor for a few tense moments, everyone ducking and trying to avoid being shot, until it hit a pile a trash, causing it to sizzle and smell even worse, if that was possible.

"I already tried that," Thor said, clearly annoyed. "It's magnetically sealed."

"Put that thing away, you're going to get us all killed!" Loki admonished, stalking towards the woman.

"Absolutely, Your Worship!" Sif said in that sweet, mocking tone that Loki was coming to despise. "Look, I had everything under control until you led us down here," she yelled, poking the prince in the chest.

"Oh really?" Loki scoffed, slapping her hand away. "That's not what I saw. And who are you, anyway?" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Lady Sif, smuggler extraordinaire, at your service," she said, mock bowing. "That's my right hand man, Volstagg over there," she said, gesturing to the rather hefty man by the door. "And you've already met the noble Thor," she added, her voice slightly mocking, "who we all have to thank for bringing us together into this lovely situation."

"Hey!" Thor cried, but could think of nothing to say to refute her statement.

"Lovely," Loki muttered.

"You know, it's not going to take them long to figure out what happened to us," Sif continued, looking around the small room.

"It could be worse," Thor suggested, shrugging.

Suddenly, there was a loud gurgling noise, the garbage shifting under their feet.

"It's worse," Sif said, glaring at Thor who just smiled sheepishly.

"There's something alive in here," Loki said, eyeing the sludge beneath them warily.

"That's only your imagination," Sif assured him, although she too looked around cautiously.

"Something just moved passed my leg," Thor called, spinning around as he stared at the ground. "Did you see that?"

"See what?" Sif asked, looking over, not noticing anything besides the abundance of trash.

Thor suddenly cried out as something tentacle-like wrapped around his leg and pulled him down into the sludge.

"Thor!" Sif cried as everyone rushed over to where he had just been standing.

The three sifted through the garbage, trying to locate the blonde man when suddenly he surfaced, gasping for air. "Blast it! My gun is jammed!" he cried in between gulped breaths.

"Where?" Sif asked, trying to locate the creature.

"Anywhere!" Thor gasped, as he was pulled under again just as Sif shot the sludge around them.

Volstagg headed back to the door, desperately trying to open it as Sif and Loki continued to stare at the murky garbage-water where Thor had just disappeared.

There was a mechanical clanging noise from somewhere in the walls around them and the water stilled, bubbles rising. Sif and Loki shared a worried look when suddenly Thor broke the surface, gulping in air as he thrashed.

"Thor!" they both cried, rushing over to pull him out of the sludge.

"What happened?" Loki asked insistently, eyes darting around them, waiting for the next attack.

"I don't know," he coughed, "it just let go of me and disappeared."

Sif looked doubtful as she patted Thor's back. Another clanking sound echoed around the room. "I have a bad feeling about this…" she trailed off, looking around.

A whirring noise began, accompanied by what sounded like the turning of gears and the walls began to close in on them.

"The walls are moving," Thor pointed out quite obviously.

"Don't just stand there!" Loki yelled admonishingly, beginning to dig through the trash. "Try and brace it with something!"

Loki managed to find a long metal pipe, lifting one end out of the muck, but it was too heavy for him to move all alone. "Help me!" he demanded, not to anyone in particular, but he was surprised when it was Sif who appeared at his side, lifting the pipe with more strength than he would have thought her capable of.

The two managed to wedge it between the slowly closing walls, watching nervously as the metal began to bend under the pressure.

Thor pulled out his communicator again, hoping his friends on the other end could help them find a way out of this mess, no pun intended. "Fandral! Fandral, come in! Where is he?" he cried, bracing himself against a wall in a futile attempt to slow its progress.

Volstagg groaned as he tried to push back on the opposite wall. "It's no use!" he cried.

Sif continued to try and hold the pole in place even as she could feel it starting to give. Loki surprisingly remained at her side, helping her keep it in position as Thor continued to yell uselessly into his communicator.

Sif pushed Loki back as the metal finally snapped, holding him protectively behind her. Loki gave her a strange look at her actions but said nothing.

"One thing's for sure," she mused, catching Volstagg's eye. "We're all going to be a lot thinner."

Her friend shot her a glare as she laughed, idly patting his large stomach.

The walls were only a few feet apart now as everyone struggled to remain on top of the garbage and not be sucked down. Loki found himself with Sif's arm around his waist, holding him up when he lost his footing and almost fell down into the trash. He looked up into her eyes and thought he saw something there, when Thor's cries caused them both to turn towards him.

"Fandral! Finally!" he was yelling into his comm. "No, listen to me! Shut down all the garbage mashers on the detention level, will you? Do you copy? Shut them down!"

The four were now bracing the walls apart with their arms, huddled together in the center of the compactor. Loki cursed everything he could think of that _these_ people were the ones to come rescue him.

All of a sudden the whirring ended with a loud thud and the walls stopped moving. There was a brief moment of complete silence before everyone started cheering. Fandral must have managed to shut down the masher after all.

Loki found himself crushed in a strong grip, looking up to see it was Sif hugging him, her eyes lit up with joy, a huge grin on her face. He gave her a tentative smile, not used to such physical contact, especially from someone he didn't know; especially from a woman he didn't know.

"You did it! Yes, we are fine Fandral!" Thor laughed, exuberant over their miraculous rescue. "Now open the pressure maintenance hatch on unit number, where are we, 3-2-6-3-8-2-7!"

The hatch above them opened with a loud hiss, startling Loki and Sif apart, both looking unusually embarrassed. Volstagg helped boost everyone up to the hatch before Sif and Thor reached down and helped haul him up into the corridor.

Loki watched as the three rescuers removed their stolen armor, slightly jealous that he had not had a layer of armor to keep some of the muck off of him in the garbage masher. He brushed off some of the worst bits from his robes, surreptitiously watching Sif straighten the clothes she was wearing underneath. Loki thought in passing that the form fitting black pants and the loose white shirt with a tight black vest suited the smuggler. He quickly shook his head of those thoughts, though, when she turned back around to face him.

"If we can just avoid any more royal advice, we might be able to get out of here alive," she jibed, smirking at him.

Thor smiled as he took the blaster she offered him. "Let's get moving then."

"There it is again!" Volstagg suddenly cried, pointing back at the hatch they had just crawled out of.

A tentacle was slowly working its way out of the hatch and along the floor towards them. Sif raised her weapon, pointing it at the familiar monster.

"No wait, they'll hear!" Loki tried to shout, but Sif ignored him, shooting a blast at the appendage, causing the creature to groan and disappear back down into the masher. The blast noise echoed around them.

Loki had had enough. "Listen. I don't know where you came from or why you're really here, but from now on, you do as I tell you," he hissed at Sif, walking up to her until they were face to face.

Sif blinked at him for a moment before letting out a cruel laugh. "Look, Your Worshipfulness, let's get one thing straight," she growled, walking forward and bumping her chest into his until he was forced to back away, the look on her face menacing. "I take orders from one person! Me!" she yelled, pointing to herself before she spun around and stalked down the hall.

Loki glared at her back. "It's a wonder you're still alive," he mocked, trudging after her until he found Volstagg blocking his path. "Will somebody get this overgrown garbage disposal out of my way?" he snarled, mentally slapping himself for the reminder of their recent adventure as he pushed passed the man.

"No reward is worth this," Sif muttered to herself as she led their merry band of misfits towards the docking bay and her ship.


End file.
